Never Let Hungary Host a Meeting!
by Savannah Lee
Summary: It's Hungary's turn to host the World Meeting, as she has a plan!  Encourage country relations...by gassing them, kidnapping them, and randomly locking them up together!  Basically, a whole bunch of smut and crack pairings like whoa.
1. Prelude

Another World Meeting was taking place, and as usual, chaos was reigning. England and France were fighting, with an obnoxiously laughing America egging them on. Russia was chatting quietly with China, all the while shooting glances at his sister, Belarus, as she kept trying to sneak up on him. Spain was chasing Romano around the room, somehow managing to do so with a full basket of tomatoes in one hand. Germany looked like he was about to yell for order, but Northern Italy kept darting around him chattering in fast, loud Italian, effectively distracting him.

For some odd reason, Prussia had decided to attend. Whether he was invited, or had decided to crash was unknown, either way he was spending his time thoroughly annoying a very flustered Austria. Poland was talking to Lithuania almost as loud as North Italy was talking. Lithuania was just nodding and sighing softly as he painted Poland's fingernails as flashy glittery pink.

Toward the back of the room, the Nordic countries gathered, a rather heated conversation gong on between Denmark and Sweden. Finland looked worried, possibly fearing a fight would break out. Norway leaned on Iceland, both of with looked thoroughly bored. Canada, Cuba, and Netherlands had sequestered themselves in a corner, a whiff of the smoke from the 'cigarette' they were sharing was all it took to discern it's not-quite-legal status.

Japan was leaning against Greece, both looking to be asleep, cats in both of their laps. Turkey lingered a few seats down, glaring at the two, Egypt next to him sitting as stoically as usual. Romania was curled up under the table, muttering something about too much light. Belgium was kneeling down to him, trying to coax him out. Ukraine sat in a chair by the door, eyes darting around to the chaos occurring, looking quite nervous, as though she didn't belong there. Estonia sat typing quickly on his laptop, headphones on ignoring everyone. Little Latvia was shaking terribly, afraid of….well, pretty much everything that was going on. His little hands were gripping onto the armrest of Estonia's chair.

Hungary sighed, looking out at the mess. She stood, walking toward the door. As she got close to the door, she ducked, a flash of light going over her head. Hungary laughed softly as she saw a worried England, wand in hand, rush over to a stunned Ukraine, who's hair was now a delightful shade of bright sky blue. France was laughing as well, weather at Ukraine's hair or England's look of terror at the rapidly approaching Russia, she wasn't sure. As Hungary slipped out the door she could hear England speaking quickly, apologizing and saying he'd fix it right away.

After she slipped out of the room, Hungary slid a small remote control out of her pocket. Hitting one of the buttons, she grinned as she heard the door to the meeting room lock, knowing all the doors had made the same sound. _I'm so glad it was my turn to host the meeting!_ she though as she pushed another button on her remote.

As she hit the button, the vents in the meeting room kicked on. No one noticed the gas slipping into the room, not until many of those inside started to pass out. Greece's cats freaked out, hissing loudly, though they too succumbed to the slumber the humans were falling to. Kumajiro jumped on the table to try to get to his master before he succumbed as well, but failed, knocking over the abandoned bottle of pink nail polish.

After a while, the gas stopped, and Hungary opened the doors again, a gas mask on her face. No one could see her grin as her military picked up the various countries, moving them to where she had instructed them to. Her laugh behind the mask was wicked. _This will be the best meeting EVER! Time to improve on county relations! she thought, moving to where her seat was in the room, retrieving her bag. She peeked inside, her cameras still there. She slipped off the mask, tossing it aside, a wide grin on her face as she left the room, shutting the door behind her._

_-}-}-_

_A/N: straight up, this is just giving me a change to get out a few crack pairings in my head while I'm working on the next chapter of "Energy Drinks", since it'll be a smut chappie and I need to practice it! Oh, and if you have any crack pairings you might wanna see, shoot me a review, and maybe you might see it! I have a few already planned, not saying who!_


	2. Ottoman Punshment

WARNING: a bit Non-con. You've been warned. Also, don't own.

With a soft groan, Turkey put his hand to his head, moving to sit up against the stone wall of the room he was in. He blinked his eyes a few times, slowly adjusting to the light. The room he was in was solid stone, a thick-looking metal door in the middle of one of the walls. A small lamp was on the small wooden table next to the door, it's light barely lighting up the whole room. Opposite the door was an old looking bed, it's legs a little crooked, but the linins on it looking fresh and clean. Sadiq turned his eyes to the wall opposite and almost jumped. He wasn't alone in the room.

Laying prone across from his was what looked like a very tall blond man. The man was on his side, his face leaning against the wall. Sadiq sighed and crawled over toe the man, rolling him over onto his back. He scrunched up his nose, trying to remember who this man was. Turkey knew the man was a fellow country, and remembered well which one. "Sweden?" he whispered to the prone man. A flash of light caught his eye, and he noticed a pair of glasses against the wall. He reached over and picked them up, looking at them with curiosity.

The man beneath his grunted softly, and Sadiq looked down in shock, glad his mask was still on to conceal the look on his face. "Wh't H'pp'n'd?" the blond man grunted, patting the ground around him. Having a feeling that it was the glasses the man was looking for, Turkey placed them into the man's hand, who in turn grunted a thanks. "Not sure what happened, eski dost, but we aren't at the meeting anymore."

Sweden slipped his glasses on and blinked once, rubbing the side of his head. "We St'ck?" he mumbled, reaching for the wall to stand up. "I think so." Turkey replied. "I haven't checked the door yet, though." Sweden snorted softly and moved to the door, giving it a few pushes and pulls. "L'ck'd in." he sighed. "Knulla." Turkey shook his head, not understanding what Sweden had said in his native tongue, but getting from the tone that it wasn't good.

Sweden turned on heel and walked to the ratty bed, sitting on the edge of it. He glared at the door, at least Turkey thought he did. Sweden's glare and his normal expression were quite similar. "I haven't seen you since that kötü kaderde meeting, you know." Turkey started, flinching slightly as Sweden's stare caught him full on. "Your bosses truly wounded mine, with that vote." Sweden snorted again. "I 'gree w'th th'm."

It was Turkey's turn to glare at the blond man, a fire lighting in his eyes. "You could have convinced them otherwise!" he shouted. "Hakaret yılan!" Sweden glared back. "Sh'l'd'n't h'v d'n it th'n. Mördare." Turkey roared and ran at the seated man, fist raised. Sweden stood up quickly, moving to dodge Turkey's fist. The two circled around each other, muttering curses in their own languages. Sweden felt at his side for his sword, finding nothing, but noticing Turkey doing the same and also finding no weapon. The two stared at each other for but a moment before charging at each other, angry snarls on their faces.

Turkey, having more bulk on his frame, shoved Sweden backwards, until the taller man's back was against the steel of the door. One hand on Berwald's neck, the other gripping the man's hands tightly, Sadiq grinned. "When I was the Ottoman Empire, I had to deal with rebellions all the time….Egypt….Greece….and yes, that pesky Armenia. " he spat, his own eyes locked onto Sweden's blues, noting the slight haze in them. _He's still feeling the effects of whatever knocked us out._ Sadiq thought. "And oh, how I had to punish them." Turkey let go of Sweden's hands, moving to remove his scarf. He let go of Berwald's neck and grabbed his scrabbling hands, tying them tightly with his scarf. With a wolfish snarl, he leaned in to Sweden's ear. "Perhaps I should show you the Ottoman way of punishing, hmm?"

Turkey yanked Sweden across the room, throwing him to the bed. Slipping his belt from it's loops, he grabbed the Swede's waist, yanking him onto his stomach. Leaning over him, Turkey looped his belt around the scarf restraining Sweden's hands, slipping it through the bars of the bed's headboard and tightening it. He stood there, watching Berwald squirm, a look of delight on his face, almost feeling bad that Sweden couldn't see the triumph on his face through his mask.

Laughing lightly, Turkey started to undress the restrained man, slipping his coat and shirt up as much as he could, the fabric covering Sweden's arms completely. Turkey lightly ran his fingertips down the Swede's spine, admiring the soft feel of the milky skin, grinning as Sweden shivered slightly. "Sensitive, huh?" Turkey asked, laughing louder as Berwald turned his head to snarl at the older man. "Rövhål!" he muttered in his normal grunting speech. Turkey just laughed more, moving to remove Sweden's pants and boots.

Once the man on the bed was as naked as Turkey could get him, he stood back and let his eyes rove over the pale squirming body. Grinning even wider, he began to remove his own clothing, tossing them carelessly off to the side. "I had to punish them so often," he said, sliding his pants off, " I began to think they enjoyed being punished." Turkey let out a breath as he released his manhood, already half hard just thinking of how he had to deal with Egypt and Greece's rebellions. "Perhaps, you share much in common with them?" Sadiq said, moving over to the bed.

A pale blush crossed Sweden's cheeks as Turkey eyes his naked form up and down. _I don't like feeling like…meat. _he thought, the thought leaving his head as soon as he felt his legs being roughly pulled apart. Turkey's hand ran lightly over Sweden's ass, giving it a few light smacks. "Such pale skin." Sadiq commented, running a finger right over Sweden's crack, eliciting more squirming from the man. After admiring the pale swells for a few more moments Sadiq leaned down, running his tongue over where his finger had just run, earning a shocked gasp from the Swede.

"You like that, yes?" Turkey hissed, pushing his tongue in a bit, tasting the musky skin of the Swede's nether regions. Sweden bit his lip, trying hard not to moan at the feeling, not wanting to give Turkey the satisfaction. Turkey hummed softly as his tongue circled Sweden's puckered entrance, lavishing the hole with soft flicks. Sweden squirmed a bit, biting his lip harder, a small dribble of blood running down his chin. Turkey reached under the pale man, running a finger down Sweden's length, noting that the man was already hard. Chuckling softly he lapped at Sweden's entrance once more before pushing his tongue inside.

Sweden gasped, shutting his eyes and finally letting a moan escape. Turkey's tongue went deeper in, swirling around inside him. Sweden moaned louder and louder. Sadiq pulled back, amused as Sweden whimpered as he did so. "Found something you like, hmm?" Turkey said, landing a few more smacks on Sweden's bottom, stroking his own length as well. "I'm assuming you never let that little 'wife' of yours göt sikme?"

"N'n 'f y'r b's'n'ss" Sweden growled. "Ooh, touchy subject, eh? I'll make you forget about your little fahişe". Sweden turned his head to yell at the older man, only to shut his eyes and cry out as Turkey entered him quickly and forcefully. Tears leaked from the corners of Sweden's eyes, then pain immense. "Perhaps, eski dost, if your government hadn't done what they did, I would have made this easier on you." Turkey hissed into Sweden's ear as he stated to thrust in and out of the restrained man.

Sweden cried out at every thrust, feeling himself tear inside, feeling the blood dripping slowly down his thighs. Turkey just laughed, fucking the younger man harder, toughing in a few more slaps to the man's ass. Turkey was enjoying the rosy color they were starting to get. Turkey thrust deeper into Sweden, positively giddy when his prey's cried turned to a loud moan. "Right there, huh?" Turkey asked, moving to his Sweden's spot again and again. Sweden's pale skin became flushed as his moans became louder still. _So quiet except in bed._ Turkey thought, moving faster as he felt his on climax rapidly approaching.

Sweden whimpered softly, embarrassed that Turkey's 'Punishment' was going to push him over the edge. Turkey could feel Sweden's muscles fluttering, and reached around to stroke the quivering man's length. "I'm not completely cold-hearted, İsveç." He muttered, stroking Sweden faster and faster. Sweden shut his eyes tight and arched his back as he came hard over Turkey's hand. Feeling Sweden tense and tighten up around his own length pushed him over the edge, filling Berwald with his seed. Sweden whimpered, the feeling of Turkey's cum inside him thoroughly unpleasant.

Turkey pulled out and released his grip on Sweden's hips, letting the taller man fall to the bed. He grinned at the bruises blossoming over the pale skin where his grip had tightened. He wiped his length off on the edge of the sheets toward Sweden's feet, before pulling the sheet over the pale man before moving the put his clothes back on. When he moved back, he saw the Swede had fallen asleep. Turkey chuckled and untied Sweden's wrists, before slipping into the bed next to him, never noticing the cameras in the corners of the room, by the ceiling, or seeing the lights on them go out one by one.

Hungary , in what looked like a control room, had a flush on her cheeks. She removed her hand from under her skirt and slipped her headphones off. She grabbed the handkerchief she had left on the control panel and wiped her hand off before flicking a few switches and buttons on the panel. A dvd popped out of a slot, and she slipped it into a case marked "TurSwe". The screens in front of her changed, no longer showing Turkey and Sweden laying together, instead showing an angry blonde man and even angrier brunette. She smiled wickedly and slid her headphones back on, slipping a blank dvd into the machine.

A/N : Sweden and Turkey were actually quite close, Sweden being one of the major countries to push for Turkey to become a full member of the EU. Their relationship soured a bit after Sweden's government voted to acknowledge the Armenian Genocide. So that's what they're fighting over. I'm assuming Armenia had a Nation Person for that. I'm assuming Turkey is older then Sweden in this.

I'm not used to writing smut, so if this really sucks, I'm sorry. I hope it'll get better with the many chapters I plan for this. (I have Germany/Romano, Prussia/Greece, Austria/England, and /America planned, I'm open to suggestions for other pairings!)

Oh, and Sweden's speech patterns really screwed with my spell check -_-

Translations (google translate, so if they're wrong, sorry!):

Eski dost (Turkish) : Old Friend

Knulla (Swedish) : Fuck.

kötü kaderde (Turkish) : ill fated

Hakaret yılan (Turkish) : Insulting snake.

Mördare (Swedish) : Murderer

Rövhål (Swedish) : Asshole

göt sikme (Turkish): fuck your ass

Fahişe (Turkish) : whore

İsveç (Turkish) : Sweden


	3. A Brother's Desire

The tension in the air was almost palatable as the blonde and the brunette stood on opposite sides of the small room they had awoken in, glaring at each other. Germany sighed and pushed off the wall to go to the heavy metal door, trying once again to open it to no avail. "We're still locked in, idiota!" Romano hissed, arms crossed across his chest. "Vell, it never hurts to keep trying." Germany replied, rubbing at his forehead. "Grande! Sono bloccato qui con un bastardo maledetto di patate!" Romano said in a quick sharp tone, before trailing off to mutter softly to himself. He turned his back to the German, who was still rubbing his head as though he had a headache.

"This is probably all your fault, Potato Bastard!" Romano shouted, turning back to the taller man. "This is probably your idea of a joke! Or your brother's!" He sneered at Germany, who was beginning to look as though his might murder the young Italian just to get him to shut up. "You've corrupted mio fratello, and now you're probably out to corrupt me too! You're evil! Il diavolo, anche!"

Ludwig stopped rubbing his head to glare at the huffy brunette across from him. Romano refused to quiet down, slowly working himself into a frenzy. " Mio fratello passa tutto il tempo vi sta attorno e non ha mai un momento da trascorrere con me! Lui ti piace di più! Ti odio!" Germany's patience was gone, and he slammed the smaller man against the wall by his neck. "You're making my head hurt, you dummkopf! Be silent for just a bit, please!" Ludwig snarled, letting Romano go. Romano's hands went to his throat, tears glimmering in his big golden-brown eyes. "You're violent! Why does my brother like you at all?" he whispered, more to himself then to Germany, yet the close quarters made it audible to both of them. "Violent." repeated Germany. "So says the unofficial leader of the Italian Mafia." he muttered with a snort.

"It's not fair! Everyone always hogs all of mio fratello's time! He never has time to hang out with me anymore!" Romano cried out, sniffling. "Sie sind wirklich bipolare, nicht wahr?" Germany muttered at Romano's sudden change in demeanor. "How if the vorld does Spain deal with you on a regular basis? You're impossible, and moody, and just a misery to be around…." Germany trailed off, blushing at how hurtful he was sounding. Romano sniffled again, mumbling a string of Italian curses.

Germany sat down against the wall, thinking. Romano kept mumbling in rapid Italian, seemingly talking more to himself then to anyone else. "I shouldn't have even BEEN at the meeting." Romano suddenly shouted. "Feli runs the damn country anyways! Why was I even there?" he huffed. Germany looked up, looking Romano straight in the eye. Romano just crossed his arms, staring back. He flinched slightly.

Germany stood once again, moving toward Romano, who backed up slowly until his back hit the opposing wall. "I think I know why you're so abscheulich, Romano. You're jealous." Romano sniffed and tried to glare at the tall German standing over him. "What the hell are you talking about, scossa?" Germany just looked down at Romano, and almost pitying look on his face. "You're jealous of your brother, aren't you? He runs the country, you don't. He's the one everyone likes, and you….you're just a sour, cranky dummkopf that no one vants to be around. You talk big, Romano, but you're just a jealous little child." The last words coming out as a low hiss, Germany turned his back on the stunned Italian.

Romano started to fume. "Well maybe if everyone didn't coddle him like a child it wouldn't be that way! If I was treated like him, maybe things would be different!" he shouted, tears welling in his eyes again. "But no! Nonno Rome took HIM away and left me behind! Since then EVERYONE's always left me behind! Just once, I'd like to be treated like Feli!" Romano gasped, leaning back against the wall, sliding down it much like the tears were sliding down his cheeks. Germany turned and watched him bury his face in his hands. "Doesn't matter anyways. Everyone always will leave me behind anyways. "

Germany sighed, sitting down on the floor right in front of Romano, watching him carefully. Romano sniffled a bit more, then looked up, right at Germany. "What do you want, potato bastard?" he sniffed, tears and snot running down his face, looking quite the fright. Germany reached into one of his pockets, pulling out a handkerchief, holding it out to the sad Italian. Romano just looked at it. "Take it, Romano." Germany said softly. Holding it out again. Romano took the cloth, wiping his face off, and blowing his nose.

The two sat there for several minutes, Germany watching Romano, Romano looking down at the handkerchief he was now twisting in his hands. Germany broke the silence. "I've….never been good at comforting anyone else. But…." he trailed off, not knowing what to say. Romano looked up sadly. "I know. I really…..I should try to be more like my brother. But I have no idea how to look on the bright side of things anymore. I…..I just want to be treated the same way as mio fratello, is all.."

Germany sighed and pulled Romano into a hug. Romano squeeked. "What the hell…" he started to mumble, stopping as Germany started to stroke his hair. "Zis is vhat I do to calm Feli down when he gets upset…..and you said you wanted to be treated like your brother." Romano sighed and leaned his head down onto Germany's shoulder, accepting the gesture. Germany kept petting Romano's hair, his other hand moving to rub small circles on Romano's lower back. Romano let his eyes slip shut, starting to relax with Germany's ministrations.

Germany shut his eyes as well, soon forgetting which small Italian he was holding. Without thinking, he felt around in his companion's hair for that one silky curl. He didn't notice it was on the opposite side when he gave it a soft tug. Romano's eyes shot open and he started to squirm in Germany's grip. "Don't do that!" he whispered, shuddering as Germany tugged on his curl a second time. Romano's head fell back onto Germany's shoulder, his eyes shutting again. He bit his lip trying not to moan, failing when Germany wrapped that curl around his fingers and pulled on it harder. Romano moaned, loud and deep, the sound breaking through Germany's entrancement.

Ludwig let go on the shivering Romano, sliding back a bit. "Gott! Es tut mir leid!" he cried out, eyes wide at the thought of what he had done. Romano's cheeks were flushed, his eyes half closed. With a whimper he moved back toward Germany. "Don't…don't be sorry….. " Romano crawled onto Germany's lap, he head resting again on his shoulder. _It's been so long….since I left Spain…so long….._ Romano thought, leasing close to Germany's ear. "I….I don't care if you pretend I'm Feli…I…I've been alone for so long…" he whispered, his warm breath causing Germany to shudder. "Touch…Touch me like you'd touch him?" Romano asked quietly, biting his lip.

Germany looked up at Romano curiously, before nodding. He reached down to lift Romano's chin, pulling him in for a soft kiss. Romano's eyes opened in shock for a second, before slipping shut and starting to kiss the blonde back. Germany flicked his tongue against Southern Italy's lip, asking for entrance. Romano obliged. Germany grinned into the kiss; Romano tasted like his brother, only a bit….spicier. Germany's hands moved to start undoing the buttons on Romano's jacket, feeling his own being undone by small nimble hands. Not breaking the kiss the two slipped their jackets off, tossing them haphazardly. Shirts came next, and the two broke their heated kiss to slip off the tank tops that had on, leaving their chests bare. Blue eyes met hazel-brown.

Germany moved his hands to Romano's hips, watching for any sign of the other being uncomfortable. Romano leaned down, capturing Germany's lips with his own, their bare chests touching. Germany's grip on Romano's hips grew tighter. He broke he kiss with a soft gasp as Romano ground his hips downward. Germany and Romano both moaned at the movement, their arousal evident. "You…You sure you vant to do this?" Germany whispered, his voice low and heavy with lust. Romano nodded, grinding his hips down again. Germany moaned again, then moved to lick lightly at the sweaty tanned expanse of Romano's neck. Romano's eyes shut tight, and he bit his lip once more. Germany lapped at Romano's neck, sucking gently, grinning as the smaller man squirmed.

Hands fumbled with belt buckles and zippers as the two franticly moved to free themselves from their rapidly tightening pants. It didn't take long before they were on their knees in front of each other, panting slightly, completely bare and flushed. One quick look is all they gave each other as their lips crashed into each other again, hands roaming over sweat slicked skin. Germany grabbed both his and Romano's length's, holding them together. They moaned into each other's mouths and Germany's hand began to move, stroking both of them together at the same time. Romano pulled back, a slender thread of spit connecting his mouth with Germany's. Romano's eyes were shut tight, his breathing sharp and quick.

Germany leaned in to Romano. "How…How far do you want to take this?" he whispered, his own breath hitching, his hand still moving. Romano let out a soft moan. "I…please…I need you to….I…..take me…." he gasped out, his hips moving closer to Germany's. Germany hummed in response, pressing his fingers to Romano's lips. Romano opened his eyes, looking at the blonde questioningly for a moment, before realizing what he was meant to do. Romano's small pink tongue darted out to wrap around Germany's fingers, eliciting a content breath from him. Germany ran his other hand over Romano's round ass, grabbing it playfully as Romano pulled his fingers further into his mouth.

After a few minutes, Germany decided his fingers were wet enough, and slipped them from Romano's mouth, grinning at the small pout that graced Romano's features. He moved his dampened fingers down to Romano's entrance, pushing gently to slip a finger inside. Romano gasped, his eyes shut tight. "Relax, Süden, it vill make it easier." Germany whispered into Romano's ear. Romano, nodded, taking in a few deep breaths to try to relax himself. Germany felt the smaller man begin to relax, and he slid a second finger inside, scissoring his fingers to stretch Romano's entrance, Romano squirmed a bit, and kept breathing deeply to relax himself further.

Germany slid a third finger in, his other hand moving to pull gently on Romano's curl. He pushed his fingers into the squirming Italian deeply. Romano's eyes shot open as Germany's fingers danced lightly against the small bundle of nerves inside him. "Oh mio dio cazzo!" he cried out, his whole body quivering. Germany grinned, and removed his fingers from Romano, one hand going back to Romano's hip.

Germany used the hand on Romano's hip to guide him up, his other hand going to grasp his own manhood, lining himself up with Romano's entrance. His tip, already slick with pre-come, brushed against the puckered skin, making Romano shiver more. He looked up at Romano's face, his hand moving from Romano's hip to his cheek. Romano opened his eyes, looking down at the German. His dark eyes took in the dark lust in Ludwig's eyes, and oft pink flush across the larger man's pale skin. Germany's normally neat blond hair was tousled slightly, making him look like a little like his brother Gilbert. Romano nodded, leaning down to lick at Germany's salty skin, letting out a held breath as Germany pushed in.

Germany placed a hand at Romano's lower back, holding the man steady. He could feel Romano tense up after he entered him, and as much as he wanted this, he had no desire to hurt the other. They stayed motionless for a few moments, the only sound in the small room their quick, shallow breaths. Germany let his eyes slip shut as Romano began to move. He shifted up a bit, before pushing himself back down onto Germany's length. Germany gripped Romano's hips again, moving his own his to pull partly to of the brunette, then thrusting sharply back in.

Romano moaned, fighting against Germany's grip to rise and fall with Germany's motions. "F…faster, potato bastard…please….." he murmured, his arms wrapping around Germany's neck, one hand snarling in the short blonde hair. Germany started to move in and out of the lithe young man with a faster speed, one hand moving to Romano's cock, stroking the length up and down, his thumb gently caressing the damp tip. Romano could only moan, not remembering ever feeling so good. His hands were tight as Germany pushed him backwards, his bare back pressing against the deliciously cool floor.

Romano wrapped his legs around Germany and the taller man began to move faster and less precisely. Germany's hand moved quicker on Romano's length, keeping pace with his thrusts. The two men were panting an moaning with little abandon. Romano's eyes opened halfway was he felt a hot coil building in his abdomen, Germany's now erratic thrusts showing he too was close. "I….I…." Romano began, never getting his statement out as he came with a loud cry, sticky white covering both their chests. The sudden tightness in Romano's entrance pushed Germany over the edge, his seed filling Romano up with a warm heat.

The two lay motionless for a few moments, catching their breath. With a soft grunt, Germany pulled out of Romano, rolling to one side to lay down next to him on the cool cement. Romano raised a hand to wipe at the sweat from his brow. "We can't tell Feli about this." he muttered. Germany nodded. "Ain geheimnis". Romano nodded and turned, curling up against the German. Ludwig yawned and wrapped his arms around Romano. Soon the two had fallen asleep, their snores the only thing breaking the silence.

Hungary finally broke her eyes away from the screen she was watching. "Istenem, ez meleg volt!" she gasped, cheeks bright red. She tapped away at her control panel to pop out the now burned dvd, opening a case marked "Germano' and slipping the disc in. Grabbing a sharpie, she scrawled "X-tra HAWT" across the cover in bright red, before placing the case with the first one. Fanning herself with one hand, she used the other to switch the camera over to the next room she was going to monitor. In that room, a short ducky blonde man and an all too familiar slender dark haired man were seated at the small wooden table in the room, apparently sharing some tea.

"How in the hell did they get a tea set in there? Hungary pondered as she watched to see what would happen.

A/N:

Romano learned some German from Prussia. So he can understand what Germany says. So there.

Still taking suggestions for pairings! I do have England/Austria and N. Italy/America already started though. And I'm dead set on Prussia/Greece. I'm definitely doing something with France, and something with Russia, but no idea who to put them with ( not each other, though!).

Translations (again Google translate, no killing me if it's off):

Idiota (Italian) : idiot

Grande! Sono bloccato qui con un bastardo maledetto di patate! (Italian): Great! I'm stuck in here with a goddamn potato bastard!

Mio Fratello (Italian) : my brother

Il diavolo, anche! (Italian) : The devil, even!

Mio fratello passa tutto il tempo vi sta attorno e non ha mai un momento da trascorrere con me! Lui ti piace di più! Ti odio! (Italian) : My brother spends all his time around you now and never has even a moment to spend with me! He likes you more! I hate you!

Dummkopf (German) : Fool

Sie sind wirklich bipolare, nicht wahr? (German) : You are really bipolar aren't you?

Abscheulich (German) : detestable.

Scossa (Italian) : jerk

Nonno (Italian) : Grandpa

Gott! Es tut mir leid! (German) : God! I'm so sorry!

Süden (German) : South

Oh mio dio cazzo! (Italian) : Oh my fucking god!

Ein geheimnis. (German) : a secret.

Istenem, ez meleg volt (Hungarian) : My god, that was hot!


	4. NOTICE

To anyone reading these fics...life has calmed down a bit, and I'll be working on them again. BUT, thanks to the jerks that started repoting fics and has caused FF.N to start puring fics, I will no longer be posting here. My tumblr name is ThermodynamicGlowstick. follow that blog, as I haven't set up a new blog just for fics yet. I'll also be going over and doing some re-writes as well.

kudos, and see ya! 


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